


Company of Wolves

by leonidaslion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-16
Updated: 2011-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonidaslion/pseuds/leonidaslion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt:</b> silver, blood</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company of Wolves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sgflutegirl](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sgflutegirl).



Sam tightened his grip on the gun as he followed the drag marks through the loamy forest floor. Panic lent a nagging heaviness to his thoughts, which were focused on getting Dean back in one piece before any of the loup-garou infected him. He ignored the cold voice at the back of his head telling him that, as long as they’d had him, Dean was already either dead or turned.

A soft growl from the darkness ahead of him brought Sam to a stop. He adjusted his stance, finger tightening on the trigger as he honed in on the sound.

“Attack and your life is forfeit, mortal.”

Heart racing, Sam whirled to face the threat at his back.

There was a man standing in his trail—or rather, a man-shaped figure. Antlers sprouted from the thing’s head and a pack of wild dogs tumbled silently around its heels. Its eyes were slit sideways like a goat’s, and gleamed in the night like freshly-exposed bone. There was blood on the thing’s hands, and more splattered across his face. In the moonlight, Sam could see that the dogs’ muzzles were also stained: dark and moist from their last kill.

They hadn’t been hunting loup-garou after all. These were hounds: fey dogs that belonged to Herne. To the high court’s huntsman.

And Sam had silver rounds in the gun, not iron.

Fuck.

Hiding his dismay, Sam tightened his jaw and said, “Where’s my brother?”

Herne cocked his head. “The hunter? He is no longer yours, but mine.”

“Like hell he is,” Sam growled. “Give him back.”

“He interfered with the Hunt. By ancient law, he was mine to kill or take as I chose. Be thankful he still lives.”

“He’s mine.” Sam pulled back the hammer on the gun, praying that Herne would both recognize that for the threat it was and miss the fact that it was only loaded with silver. Trying to shoot something like Herne with that kind of ammo was akin to tossing gnats at a mountain and expecting it to fall down. Didn't mean Sam wouldn't try it to get his brother back.

The huntsman’s lips twitched upward in amusement. “You challenge me for him? You would risk your soul for him?”

“Yes,” Sam answered without hesitation.

“I accept. Should you best me, then I will release the hunter. Should I prevail, then your life shall end at his jaws.”

“His what?” Sam said blankly, and then his heart clenched as one of the dogs stepped forward to Herne’s side, its green eyes bright and empty. “ _Dean_ ,” he whispered.

“Do you agree to the terms, mortal?” Herne prodded.

Keeping his eyes on the dog—on his brother—Sam nodded.


End file.
